


what do you want from me

by musiclily88



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Gen, Haunting, ghost - Freeform, prompt: haunting and ghost
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-02
Updated: 2019-10-02
Packaged: 2020-11-15 03:28:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20859482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/musiclily88/pseuds/musiclily88
Summary: They move into the empty house, Harry scanning his eyes around as if looking at something splendid. Louis kicks up a bit of dust, sneezing twice. When he opens his eyes again, Harry’s inexplicably at the top of the stairs.





	what do you want from me

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Haunting // Ghost

“Hey,” Louis hears as he ashes his cigarette onto the pavement out front of some terraced houses he’s promised his boss he’ll tour to see if they’re salvageable enough to buy and flip for a profit. The wind whips around his shoulders, and he shivers.

“Yeah?” he responds, looking up to see a lanky brunet guy in bell-bottoms and a paisley button-up. He has an amused, curious look on his face, head tipped to one side.

“I’m Harry.”

Louis drops his cigarette, stubbing it out. “Louis.”

Harry grins. “Pleasure.”

Louis raises his brows. “Right.”

“You the new owner?” he asks, gesturing to one house with a shrugged shoulder, smile still on his lips.

“Nah, my boss might wanna buy it.”

Harry’s face falls. “Oh.”

“Why? You a neighbour?” Louis takes out another cigarette and lights it, curiosity growing despite his better senses.

“Nah. I used to live here.”

Louis’ gaze rakes Harry up and down. “In which decade, mate?” When Harry’s eyes go wide, he immediately holds up his hands. “Sorry, that was rude. Tend to live in Adidas and ripped denim. That’s all.”

“There are worse ways to live.”

“Right.” For a moment, they just stare at each other.

“Would it be weird if I asked to come inside for a minute?”

Louis’ at a loss for words. He settles for a shrug, turning, only to find that Harry’s already standing at the door, poised to open it. Louis blinks, furrowing his brow.

They move into the empty house, Harry scanning his eyes around as if looking at something splendid. Louis kicks up a bit of dust, sneezing twice. When he opens his eyes again, Harry’s inexplicably at the top of the stairs.

Louis splutters, legging it up as Harry starts to chuckle, the sound resonating in the stillness around them. He huffs at the top of the stairs. “Which room was yours, then?”

Harry wordlessly leads him to the right, pushing open a creaky door with one foot. “This is where the magic happened?” Louis asks, looking around at the faded blue wallpaper.

Harry grimaces. “So to speak.”

Louis swallows, clapping Harry on the back. “Sorry, mate. Didn’t mean to bring up bad memories.”

Harry leans into the touch. “Just haven’t been back in awhile. That’s all.”

“Oh. You live far away, now?”

“Uh.” Harry walks towards the open closet, pulling the chain so the lightbulb turns on. “Not exactly.”

“Sure. Got six siblings, me. The oldest of us are busy as tits and twice too poor to travel often. Can be hard to get home, even when we want to.”

“Six siblings?” Harry twirls around—that’s the only word for it, twirls—giving Louis a wide-eyed look.

“Yeah. ‘m the oldest, proper weird I wasn’t able to get back for the twins’ seventh birthday.”

Harry nods. “Don’t get to see my sister much. Gemma’s older than me. Wish I’d had younger siblings. Kids are awesome.” He turns back to the closet, feeling about the left-hand wall before pulling aside a board and extracting a cigar box. He moves to the center of the room, sitting crossed-legged onto the floor.

“I never asked you what you do.”

Flipping open the lid of the box, Harry shrugs. “This and that.”

“S’pose there are worse ways to live.”

“Yep,” he replies, popping the _p _ as he thumbs through some photographs haphazardly. “And worse ways to die.”

Suddenly, Louis feels like he’s intruding, but he sits down by Harry regardless. “Bit morbid, mate.”

Harry drops the photos back into the box, snapping it shut before handing it to Louis. “Gift from me to you.”

“What?”

“Happy Halloween, Louis. Oh, and 1979, since you were wondering,” he says, giving Louis a wide, bright grin before flickering out of existence.

Louis sits down, pulling out photo after photo, sepia with age. He frowns.

The last thing he pulls out is a small notebook. The inside cover says _HES born 1958_

Later, Louis finds a pen and adds _died 1979._

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr: musiclily


End file.
